Messy Minds in Idle Times
by Sherpkat
Summary: Haru is struggling with the idea that he may have more than one dream, but he just can't keep the thoughts from slipping out of his head. They keep on piling up, building on top of each other until they're all gone, his attention focused elsewhere. (Haru struggles with the idea of dreams, Makoto, and pens).
1. Coming Home

The thought had been dancing in his mind for a while now, consuming Haru on the plane ride back while Rin was busy catching up on some much needed sleep. A dream, something to focus on, something to look forward to when times were bleak, something Haru found while in Australia. He stared at the window, watching the clouds come closer as the plane began tipping forward slightly, the miniature airport growing life-sized by the second. Everyone had been so insistent on Haru finding a dream, but what if he found something more? What if there was actually something larger out there than just a single dream for Haru? What if…

As the plane slides into the terminal, Haru fidgets in his seat, silently bouncing his leg and checking the time on his phone for the umpteenth time.

"Haru, we just landed, calm down," Rin sleepily drones, stretching and blinking away the sleep from the nap he had slipped in to.

Haru stops moving and sighs, leaning back into the seat. He doesn't have time for all this, going through customs, getting luggage and—

"Haru," Rin murmurs, lightly placing his hand on Haru's arm, "it will be will okay. Just be honest to yourself and make up with Makoto." Rin smiles, "I'm sure you guys are going to be okay. He couldn't stay mad at you if he wanted to."

Haru nods, reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt. He knows Makoto would forgive him and accept him back into his life for whatever time they had left in Iwatobi. But that was the thing, Haru surmised as Rin stood and stretched, Makoto would always forgive Haru and be with him whenever he could. Soon he will be gone though, in Tokyo, hours away from here and anything Haru knew or recognized and maybe he would find new and better friends that are better than him who can't even get out of the tub in the morning to get—

"Haru," Rin mutters, "you'll have time to overthink things later. For now, let's get off this plane."

He offers Haru his hand, but Haru shakes his head and stands without help, wobbling on the now sturdy ground beneath his feet. Rin smirks and turns down the aisle, following the line of people off the plane with a bounce in his step.

Haru follows a few steps behind, feeling a little lighter. "Thanks Rin," he whispers, not knowing if the red head will hear him.

Rin just glances over his shoulder and nudges Haru with his foot. "Don't get sappy on me Nanase, that's not my department."

"Says the guy who cries at pools full of cherry blossoms," Haru intones, face totally straight.

"_That was one time_!" Rin hisses, turning back around and grumbling to himself, but not before he saw the tiny grin skirt across Haru's face.

* * *

><p>Haru sees his bag slide by in the conveyor belt and quickly picks it up, easily tossing it over his shoulder.<p>

"Come on Haru!" Rin waves, his larger bag already firmly upon his back, "time to go beat your ass at regionals!" He beams, walking backwards towards the exit.

"We swim as a team," comes from behind Rin, causing him to scrunch his face up in confusion.

"Eh?" Rin questions, turning around.

"Makoto," spills from Haru's mouth as he spots the brown-haired boy, his luggage begging to slip off his arm. It clatters to the ground as Haru steps forward softly, blue eyes catching green and taking in the easy, relaxed expression.

"You came!" Rin laughs, softly slapping Makoto's shoulder. "I told you that I could get him back safely." Rin shakes his head.

Makoto keeps eye contact with Haru as he responds to Rin. "Sousuke offered to ride with me. He's over there, insisting that he didn't want to get caught up in all the 'waterworks' as he so quaintly put it." Makoto thumbs toward the door where a dark, imposing figure is casually leaning against a pillar.

Rin is off, running towards him shouting "Sousuke! You're here too!" Causing heads to turn in his direction, but not Makoto's or Haru's.

Haru is inching closer, steps shaky and uncertain. What if he is still upset, Haru thinks, breathing quicker and shakier. What if just came to see Rin? What if we really can't fix this? What if—

"Haru, welcome home," Makoto said softly, opening his arms wide and stepping forward to envelop Haru in a hug. "I'm glad you're back, so please stop looking so worried and upset."

Makoto rests his chin on Haru's head, feeling the tension of the smaller man's muscles beneath him. Slowly, Haru began to relax, reaching his arms around Makoto, clutching the back of his shirt, and inhaling the scent that is wholly and fully Makoto. His breathing returned to normal as Makoto rubbed small, soothing circles into Haru's back.

"I'm sorry Makoto," Haru chokes, pulling tighter on Makoto's shirt, "I should have never said those terrible things." Haru buries his face in Makoto's collar, taking deep breaths to keep the tears that are already begging to slide down his cheeks at bay. "I didn't mean it; you're never butting into my life unnecessarily."

"Oh Haru," Makoto mumbles, gripping Haru tighter as he feels the front of his shirt becoming wet, "I'm so sorry Haru. I shouldn't have pushed you to try and find something you didn't want or need or even—"

Haru looks up, a silent trickle still flowing from his eyes and stares Makoto down, causing him to stop babbling. "No, you had every right Makoto," Haru reiterates. "You're my best friend, and I needed something. Don't ever let anyone tell you that dreams aren't important," Haru looks back down to Makoto's shirt collar and utters, "even if that person is me."

Makoto stiffens, almost angry, before he calms down and accepts the apology, reaching a hand up to ruffle Haru's glossy onyx locks. "Did you find your dream in Australia, Haru?" He breathes, leaning back to glance down at the boy—no, man—that seems so fragile in his arms. In reality, Haru is probably just as strong as Makoto, but right now he seems like a child again. It wasn't often that Makoto was the one comforting Haru, it was usually the other way around after a scary movie or some spooky shadow in the dark, but Makoto doesn't mind this change of pace. Friendships grow and evolve, he thinks with a smile, waiting for Haru's answer.

"I want to swim," Haru intones and pauses, biting his lip, eyes dancing over Makoto. Today he has his earring in and Haru wonders if he will swim with it later. His hair looks dry, so Haru assumes he hasn't gone to meet up with the others to practice for today yet. Maybe he needs to think this out better, write it all down before he tells Makoto, or else he might say something wrong and mess everything he has worked for up.

Makoto wants to laugh and say he knows that Haru loves swimming, but he waits, giving Haru a moment to sort through his thoughts because he understands Haru needs to sort through that whirlwind he calls a brain.

"I…" Haru begins again, "want to go pro." He tries to finish, something heavy settling on his tongue. He's leaving something out, what is it? Did he mention—

"Really?" Makoto beams, stepping back and grabbing Haru by the shoulders to get a better look at him. He stares Haru straight in the eyes and grins, pulling him back and absolutely crushing him in a hug that Haru can't even attempt to return with his arms all cramped under Makoto's strong grip. "I'm so proud of Haru-chan! You have a dream and you're going to swim! Haru-chan is going to be the best professional swimmer I know it!" Makoto all but sings while increasingly crushing Haru.

Haru wants to be angry, he really does, but Makoto's joy has finally stopped those damned tears and Haru can't help but let a laugh slip out. He blames that on the lack of oxygen to lungs thanks to a Makoto Super Hug© currently attempting to end his life before he can even attempt his dream.

"Haru-chan is laughing now?" Makoto eases off the hug enough to allow Haru a good breath, and then Haru is really laughing, causing Makoto to stare.

"What's so weird?" Haru asks, taking a step back from Makoto to try and calm down his laughter, "And drop the chan." There was something else he was thinking about, something that he meant to say earlier, but what was it?

"It's just so weird to hear you laugh, that's all," Makoto chuckles. "I guess it's just strange to see you show so much in public."

Haru forgot where they were, in an airport in the middle of the day. He looks around to see if they have drawn any attention, but the airport is small and the few people milling about are hurriedly heading to their destinations. Haru looks over Makoto's shoulder to see Sousuke and Rin sitting on a bench near the exit, both laughing about something, but clearly not paying attention to their little display. His bag is even lying on the floor, untouched, where he had dropped it, about ten feet behind where the reunion was taking place.

"You squeezed all the air out of my lungs and the sense from my head," Haru mutters, almost pouting as he goes to retrieve his bag.

Makoto follows behind, bemusement evident upon his face when Haru turns around to toss the bag to him.

"Are you ready to go practice for our big race?" Makoto inquiries, easily catching the bag and slinging it around his chest.

"I'm ready to swim with you all," Haru replies, heading towards the exit, knowing Makoto will follow.

Makoto catches up quickly and begins to fill him in on what happened in his absence, and Haru falls back into their easy pattern of Makoto speaking with Haru half-listening. There is something shifting in his mind, nagging for his attention, but Haru just can't remember what it is. He knows he needs to remember, but for now, Makoto's voice will keep him calm.


	2. After Race Confrontations

Haru felt elation flow through his bones as he climbed out of the pool. This, this is where he should be, and this is where he _wanted_ to be.

His friends surrounded him, everyone too busy hugging and sobbing to hear what place they made, but Haru didn't care. He had never felt more at home and more alive than in this moment, almost smothered by those he loves the most. A true grin broke out across his face, a tear or two sliding down his cheeks. This is his family—Rei, Nagisa, and Makoto—and even though this may have been their last race together in a competition, this wouldn't be their last time together.

Haru pulled back from the jumping hug fest as they were being ushered with the other swimmers back to the locker rooms. He thought he heard Nagisa chant "sixth place!" but he wasn't sure, not too worried about that for this team. Sure, Haru wanted to get better and improve his times, but today they all swam their best and he couldn't ask for more.

Haru quickly changed and wandered out of the locker rooms, making his way down the vast hallway when a hand catches his arm, causing him to drop the swim bag he is carrying.

"Haru-chan? Where are you going?" Makoto asked, head tilted inquisitively.

He usually waited for Makoto, didn't he? It would seem weird then if he just left without telling Makoto, but he didn't want Makoto to know. What if he made fun of him? This wasn't something Haru would have normally done and by now Makoto obviously realized something weird was going on.

Haru holds up one finger when he sees Makoto take a breath, the usual sign that Makoto was going to tell him to either 'take his time,' or 'stop thinking so much,' whatever the situation called for.

"I wanted to watch the other swimmers." Haru answers as Makoto lets go of his wrist.

A quiet calm washes over the two, sealed by Makoto uttering "you want to study them, to improve your technique." He's not asking, simply stating what is fact.

Haru nods, watching a dust mote float through the corridor, illuminated by the sun streaming in. _I used to be like that,_ Haru thinks, _without purpose and direction, carried only by the wind. But now I have a purpose,_ he remembers; _now I need to tell Makoto._

Haru starts, "M—"

"What are you doing in a few weeks, Haru, when college starts?" Makoto asks Haru, not seeming to have heard Haru's quiet beginning. Makoto is staring out the window, both elbows placed on the ledge, face resting in the cradle created by his own hands. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice when Haru's quiet musings ended, something he usually paid attention to.

"I am going to one of the colleges that scouted me," Haru murmured, turning his attention out the window to see what had Makoto's. The trees were softly blowing in the summer heat, green leaves creating canopies throughout the concrete paths they were lining.

Haru almost didn't notice the change in Makoto, the way the man seemed to shrink, if that made sense. He was still staring out the window, but his voice wavered when a quiet "where?" slipped out.

Haru looks down at his hands, wishing he had the ability to permanently tattoo important information on them so he would never forget it. When he was younger, he would write on his hands important dates and events, but his parents always made him wash it off when he got home, preaching on the hazards of ink poisoning. Sometimes he would be searching for a marker or pen when the thought that was so important to get noted would slip right out of his mind and into the sea. His mind was a constant wave of pictures, thoughts, and words, filling up too much space; overriding and overflowing his ability to coherently remember important details that he knew he shouldn't forget.

"Makoto," Haru places his hand on Makoto's shoulder to feel the larger man shaking beneath it, "I'm going to Tokyo." With you, Haru wants to add but Makoto's attention is ripped from the trees that could never shine as bright as the eyes boring into him right now.

"With me…?" Makoto finishes, the elusive dangling question mark filling the space between them.

Haru crushes it with a genuine smile, nodding. "I hope you don't mind that I chose the same college as you." Haru knows he should probably feel something other than delight for following Makoto so far, but the look of pure, unadulterated joy flowing forth from Makoto doesn't make him doubt his decision in the slightest. Forgetting to tell Makoto earlier, that's where he messed up.

"I meant to tell you earlier, that I wanted to be—" Haru is shaken as the gentle giant hugs him fiercely, sobbing into Haru's still damp hair.

"Don't apologize," Makoto sniffs, pulling back and grinning through the tears, "and no, I don't mind at all." He lets go of Haru and begins to try to wipe the tears away, laughing as they keep spilling.

"Are you okay Makoto?" Haru questions, reaching in his bag for a towel. He brings it up to Makoto's face and gently blots at his cheeks, trying to catch the liquid elation before it runs down his chin.

Makoto gently takes the towel from Haru, taking deep breaths to quell the river behind his eyes. "I'm just so happy Haru-chan," he beams, rubbing the towel over his face again and reappearing from behind it with a look that makes Haru's stomach bubble.

"We need to stop having these public scenes Makoto," Haru huffs, looking up and down the hallway, causing a round of giggles from Makoto as his tears finish drying up. It's still empty, everyone else still most likely showering and actually changing, unlike Haru who merely put on his jacket and some pants over his jammers.

"Maybe that's just how we are Haru-chan, destined to have important, life-changing moments knowing they could be interrupted at any second." Makoto wraps the towel Haru gave him around his neck as Haru picks up his bag and begins down the hallway. "Haru-chan," Makoto pouts, "wait for me!"

"Let's go watch the other swimmers," Haru says, turning back and holding his hand out to Makoto. Makoto looks down at it for a moment, confusion evident on his face, before smiling and gripping tight.

"Yeah, let's go Haru-Chan." He follows, almost beside, yet slightly behind Haru. But that's the way it's always been, Makoto thinks. Haru is always sweeping in so quietly, no one took the time to notice the boy he never said much but always seemed to think too much. Makoto is glad to be behind Haru right now, gliding down the long hallway with the sun shining through. He knows Haru isn't leading him, that isn't who he is; Haru is showing him something, something that Makoto knows Haru may not even understand at this point, but it's somewhere in that oceanous brain of his. If being pulled by Haru is like drifting off to sea then Makoto couldn't think of a better way to drown.

"Drop the chan," Haru sighs, pulling Makoto with ease. Haru remembered when they were growing up and Makoto would trip over his own two feet during growth spurts, but now he moves with a finesse that Rei could only describe as _beautiful_. There was something else, Haru was sure, that he needed to say to Makoto, but he was cut off. Something to do with his dream, but all Haru can focus on is the way his skin is burning where every finger is pressed against Makoto's, a tiny furnace between their palms.

Haruka vows to start carrying pens again, ink poisoning be damned.


	3. Small Gifts

If Haru closes his eyes, he can pretend that everything is still the same. The tiles lining the walls will be familiar; the tub of water enveloping him won't feel too large. But Haru doesn't like to think that way—that nothing has changed—even if he hears footsteps and grumblings from down the hallway. He likes to keep his eyes open now and believe that change is something that happens, good or bad, and it's the reactions to changes that can ultimately determine their outcome. Yes, Haru thinks, lids fluttering shut, change is something that will always happen, but sometimes it's nice when things stay the same.

"Haru!" Makoto calls, opening the bathroom door to see Haru soaking in the tub. He shakes his head, knowing Haru can't see him. "Some things will never change about you, Haru-chan," Makoto smiles, walking forward and reaching his hand out.

Haru opens his eyes and gives Makoto the 'drop the chan' look, but takes Makoto's hand and carefully steps out of the tub. "How long until our first classes today?" Haru asks, grabbing a towel and throwing it over his head as he walks out the bathroom.

Makoto sighs, rolling up his sleeve to unstop the tub, thinking it would just be easier to do this if he didn't wear so much flannel all the time, but he couldn't resist buying all he could for college after Haru helped him pick some out. His watch reads 7:43 which means—

"Haru!" Makoto yells, racing out of the bathroom and down the short hallway into the kitchen. "We have seventeen minutes until our class! We need to leave right now if we are even going to attempt to—"

"Is it 9:43 already?" Haru inquires over his shoulder, tying the apron around his back and heading to the stove.

Makoto pauses, letting his backpack drop to the floor before landing heavily in a chair. "It's Tuesday, isn't it?" He monotones, placing his head on the table and sighing deeply.

"Mhm," Haru replies, opening the fridge to retrieve some of the mackerel they'd purchased this weekend. At first it was difficult to find a fresh seller in Tokyo, but after wandering around a few weeks, it was becoming easier to navigate and find things around the city. As Haru begins frying the fish, Makoto sits back up in the chair.

"I keep forgetting we don't have class at eight every morning. Sorry Haru-chan."

Haru shrugs, watching his food closely, and gets the kettle out for some tea. Which type today? He really enjoyed the chai he'd gotten from the small stall next to the fish market, but the oolong he'd brought from back home has always been a favorite. Maybe some green tea today for Makoto though, to help boost his mind and get him thinking on the right track. Yeah, green tea with some—

"How did you remember?"

Haru looks over his shoulder to see a perplexed Makoto twiddling with his thumbs at the table. He softly smiles, holding up his left hand where the smudged, but still legible, ink covers most of the skin. "I made sure to write it down so we wouldn't forget again and be too early." Haru turns back to his food and examines his hand, eyes tracing where the ink ran off in the water and smudged against the towel. "I just grabbed a random pen last night that didn't fare well in the tub today." He finishes, turning off the stove and getting out plates and cups.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Makoto stands up to take the dishes from Haru to set the table, picking out the silverware himself. He then hurries to his backpack and ruffles around in it before pulling out something triumphantly. "For you, Haru-chan!" He beams, taking the kettle and green tea from Haru and handing him a pen instead.

Puzzled, Haru takes the pen and uncaps it, sitting down at the table with Makoto. The tip is soft like a marker, but small and pointed like a ballpoint or fine point pen.

"It's water resistant," Makoto answers Haru's unvoiced questions after they both say a quick thanks for the food. "I found it while picking up some last minute supplies for my art history class. I figure it'd work better than those pens that smear all over your clothes the moment you decide to hop into a body of water." He smiles, pouring a cup of tea for himself and Haru, "It can eventually wear off, but rubbing alcohol helps speed up the process! At least that's what the store owner said," Makoto laughs, setting down the kettle.

The pen rests heavy in Haru's hands, a simple gift for sure, but a well thought out one, Haru thinks. "Thank you, Makoto," Haru finally replies, seeing Makoto visibly relax after accepting his gift, "you must have thought a lot about this." He tucks the pen behind his right ear, a habit he's slipped into lately. Mainly because it keeps a pen close at hand, nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Makoto once told him it was 'cute.' That has no legal standing in this predicament in any way.

Makoto shrugs, a slight blush growing across his cheeks and nose. "I just wanted Haru-chan to keep his thoughts where he can find them." Makoto takes a sip of his tea, looking anywhere but at Haru.

Warmth flows through Haru as he quickly grabs the pen and uncaps it, the words spilling onto his arm so we won't forget to record them later.

_Makoto gave me a special pen today_.

And thanks to Makoto, he wouldn't have to hurry to find a notebook to record this momentous occasion in. He could savor this knowledge long after normal ink would run and disappear from his skin.

Haru glances up to see Makoto reading the characters on his arm, mouth trying to form the syllables into words, but having difficulty from reading them upside down across the table. Haru scoots his chair over, moving from the spot across Makoto to the one next to him on the small, four sided table.

"Here," Haru brings his arm up to show Makoto the words he'd just finishing inscribing, sliding the special pen back behind his ear. "I wrote down something I didn't want to forget," he mumbles, feeling his own face begin to grow warm.

Makoto briefly runs his fingers over the characters, letting the feeling sink in. Haru's smooth, soft skin with Makoto's name on it made him feel… Proud? Is that the feeling rising in the back of his throat, twisting in the confines of his stomach, fluttering around his ribcage and chest?

"You're one of a kind, Haru-chan." Is all Makoto can get out, letting go of Haru's arm. He takes a bite of the breakfast gone cold, lukewarm mackerel sliding down easily. He feels Haru's eyes on him for a moment, before Haru himself digs into the meal, Makoto knowing he is enjoying the mackerel despite its cold, room temperate.

Haru almost tells him to drop the chan, but Makoto's gift is ringing softly by his ear. Something about today is different though, Haru decides. The realities of two dreams emerging doesn't seem like an impossibility, like it did before wandering the streets of Sydney and even owning up to one. What was that other dream? Haru stares at the fish in front of him, demanding it answer his question. There was another one, Haru remembered that, but he forgot to write it down, instead thinking of all the ways Makoto would be mad at him upon returning.

A laugh almost spills out at that thought now, Haru thinks, side-eying the man next to him. He's wearing the red flannel shirt Haru had picked out while they were shopping for new clothes, the sleeve on one arm rolled up reminding Haru that he forgot to unstop the tub before stepping out. The sight of the uneven sleeves makes Haru's heart beat a little faster, and he's regretting not putting on a shirt before cooking today. He's sure this weird heart anomaly can clearly been see through his muscle tissue and bone marrow, thumping all the way across the table. Haru wills the beating back to normal and takes another bite of breakfast, chewing slowly.

"You were wrong," Haru says after a moment, mackerel not even halfway finished.

"Hmm?" Makoto inquires, mouth full of fish.

"You suggested important moments would only occur with the knowledge we could be interrupted at any time, but we aren't in public Mako—"

Haru's phone begins to loudly ring from its place on the table, forgotten by both. Makoto opens his mouth and Haru hisses a "Don't," before snatching up the overlooked cell and wrenching it open.

"Hello Nagisa." Haru deadpans, watching Makoto struggle to keep from giggling by sipping on some tea.

"Haru-chan! I wanted your opinion on something, do you have a minute?" Nagisa's cheerful voice makes Haru miss his kouhai, but he was kind of interrupting something significant, and Makoto was about to explode from holding all that laughter in.

"Nagisa, shouldn't you be in school by now?" Haru sighed, eyeing the clock on the stove.

"Oh, I didn't realize how late I was running! Thanks Haru, I'll call you about swimming techniques later!" The line cut and Haru snapped his phone shut, placing it carefully on the table.

"Now the real question arises," Makoto intonated, expression clear and fierce. "Was this an important moment only because of the interruption? Or does this mean—"

"Shut up and eat your breakfast Makoto, you're ruining everything." Haru groaned, scooting his own plate forward to plant his chin against the table, hands rubbing at his temples.

Makoto laughs, rubbing Haru's shoulder with one hand. "Every day is a special moment with you, Haru-chan." He claims, hand coming to ruffle the shorter man's perpetually damp hair.

"You've been talking to Rin too much," Haru mutters, turning his head to stick his tongue out at Makoto.

"Rude, Haru-chan!" Makoto scoffs, going back to his cold breakfast.

The black haired man smiles, something that he can't stop doing lately, as he watches Makoto eat the breakfast of a lunatic. Haru knows it's not normal to eat mackerel for almost every meal, but he's accepted the life of being labeled as different. Makoto on the other hand could have easily said no, asked Haru to make something else, or just flat out refused to ever touch mackerel again. But here he is, diligently eating away at the meal of a madman.

Haru grabs the pen from his ear and prints on his palm in small characters:

_Makoto eats my mackerel every day._


End file.
